


Slick, Wet Tiles

by distelhawk



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3712042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distelhawk/pseuds/distelhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My bare back hits the tiles of the gym shower with a wet thud, sweaty skin and shower-damp walls giving it a rough kind of glide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slick, Wet Tiles

**Author's Note:**

> Accidental Rennerson porn. Like, seriously, I meant to write porn and then it just happened.

My bare back hits the tiles of the gym shower with a wet thud, sweaty skin and shower-damp walls giving it a rough kind of glide that hurts just right. Thank god the studio keeps the showers clean, I think distantly. A gasps is out in the air between us before I can swallow it down, lips ripped apart to leave space for harsh breaths and low moans to fill the heavy air. I feel with my fingertips down the smooth skin of his chest, wonder what it tastes like, until I find the seam of his pants. I slip them inside, revelling how the coarse hairs of his happy trail promise more pleasure to come. It has been so long.

“Shit!” I groan because now one of my nipples is in his mouth, the suction hard, unforgiving and so fucking good. “More!” I didn’t mean to say it, trying to keep the upper hand after all. I don’t like to be dominated by most, but then again with him and me it has always been a back and forth, neither one willing to back down while trusting enough to do so when need be. 

In retaliation, I twist my hand in deeper, past his length and right to his balls, gathering them in my hands and giving them an experimental squeeze, rolling them back and forth before one of my fingers slips even deeper, pushing fast and hard against his perineum. He freezes for a second and I feel his dick twitch against my arm. The tip feels wet, precum gathering already and making the quick glide sticky and sexy. Now he moans, breathy and a little desperate. I grin into the skin of his neck.

This wasn’t planned. Ha, far from it. There’d always been flirting, that kind of appreciation from a far. We both knew there was no real foundation for more. For a thing that would last and so it was just that, flirting. Until today. 

“So hot,” he rasped when I raised my legs, wrapping them around his torso and grinding against him with force. I need friction; I need something because I feel like I am vibrating in my own skin. I’m still wearing my sweats and underwear, so is he and the pressure is not enough.

“Off, fucking take them off!” It’s not a suggestion and the breathy laugh I get in response makes me growl, twisting my head to the side and giving the lope of his ear a sharp tug. I know what that laugh means and he proves me right by only returning my earlier favor, fingers slipping between my legs while his other arms holds me up. 

“This what you want?” he asks, voice a mix of laughter and pure sex. His fingers are gorgeous and thick, rough patches slipping over wet skin and between my folds, mapping them out. It makes me want to howl. He purposely misses my clit with every drag, teasing me until I dick the heels of my feet into his ass and catching his hand between my thighs. 

“Don’t fucking tease me,” I glower. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

There it is again, that breathy whimper that shows I’ve won. I kick it up another notch. 

“I want that thick dick of yours right now, pump into me until I scream, so I can milk every last drop from you.”

I am not usually the first to go for the dirty talk, but right now it seems to fit and if his response is any indication - pants, panties, shoves out of the way so roughly it nearly hurts - he agrees. Fuck, his cock is perfect. Not that long, but thick, veins running up the side and shit, I will feel this for hours. 

“You’ll fucking kill me, Johansson.” The ripping of a condom wrapper and I momentarily stand on my own two feet again.

“Not before I make you come, Renner,” It was maybe a little much and suddenly we’re laughing, naked upper bodies pressed together while I smooth down the condom and he laughs into my wet hair. 

“I want you,” he whispers after the laughter subsides and I only nod in agreement. Before I can jump up again, he spins me around, presses my front against the wall. My erect nipples catch on the surface and I shudder. The urgency is back.

“Come on, come on,” I spread my legs, push my hips up hungrily and reach behind myself to grip his hips. He groans once, almost reverently, before pushing in to the hilt in one smooth glide.

“Yes!”

It’s heaven, a glimmering cascade of electricity up and down my whole body and I moan deeply, not caring how wanton I sound.

We don’t speak any more after, instead filling the damp air with the sound of skin slapping on skin, loud moans and gasp. My fingers dig into his skin hard enough to probably bruise but I don’t care. It’s been months since I split from Romain, even longer since I last had sex and fuck, I am not the biggest fan of one night stands but this? This is perfect.  
The feeling when the head of his dick catches at my entrance, when it dives in deep and fills me up, it’s like the sweetest kind of poison and all I want is more. So much more, but I know I won’t get it. This will be a one-time thing, nothing more. We’re both too riled up, already I can feel the build up in my core, like spidery webs slowly spreading. It feels so good but so bad, because soon it will be over. His strokes are deep but no longer steady, bordering on erratic and I pull on his hips blindly. 

“Faster, fucking faster,” because I don’t want a slow role, I want an explosion. 

It doesn’t take long after. He complies with hard, fast jabs, pistoning his hips faster with every passing second and I don’t know where to hold on. My fingers slip over the sticky tiles, pruney fingers seeking some way to hold on while my body gets ravaged in the best way. My nipples are nearly raw at this point, sliding over stone with every stroke, but the thin edge of pleasure-pain is what pushes me over the edge. It is an explosion, just what I wanted. It is white, hot bliss and pain and fucking fireworks. 

“Fuck!” is the first thing I hear after, and it is followed by a pulsing of his dick buried deep. I wish we didn’t have to use a condom, to feel him filling me up and dripping out. I fucking love cum, always have. Damn, I should have blown him. 

It takes both of us a long while to come back down, to distance ourselves and step back, find back to our usual selves. It was good, so much better than I would have thought and it is nearly bitter-sweet when he finally slips out of me, now flaccid and spent. We held out for nearly two years and now the moment is passed, never to return. 

“Thank fuck you don’t suck in the sack,” tumbles out of my mouth, because as much as I want to be cool with this, know that I will be given a little time, right now? Right now it feels awkward. The air around us is stale and cold, not hot and mysterious. 

I grin, try to elegantly gather up my pants and ... well, leave, I guess. Because what else do you do in a moment like this?

“Well ... yeah,”

Thank god he is just as awkward now as I am. 

“We’ll be OK, right?”

I can’t not ask. Because flirting and build-up notwithstanding, he is my friend, a good friend and I need us to be OK. 

“Yeah, course we will be.” And I can tell he means it. It makes me smile.

And later, back in the hotel, after a shower and in my bed, when I still feel a delicious throbbing between my legs, I still smile. Because fuck yes, we will be OK and fuck yes, this was awesome.


End file.
